Independent Poetry

Watching them cycle through emotions so rapidly by the time you blink they have moved on to the next. Fear, anger, sorrow, happiness, repeat.

If you watch long enough you will witness something you cannot fathom,

The dying eyes will become clear pupils will dilate and the face will become slack and that’s when it happens, ataraxia fills their eyes and cold air fills the room. Your body tingles and your mind will race trying to comprehend what is happening. The dying man has accepted his fate and serenity has been found. They exhale slowly, a sound that cuts your souls and leaves you with a melancholy taste in your mouth. They have passed away and left no answer only more questions.